


Dinner Date

by justsimplymeagain



Category: Good Omens (TV), Gotham (TV), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Date Night, Hannigram is only hinted, M/M, Ruined Date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-06-26 21:02:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19776349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justsimplymeagain/pseuds/justsimplymeagain
Summary: Crowley was in the mood to do something nice for his angel, a date night and away from London and away from everything. Unfortunately, as with everything, it seemed it hardly goes as planned...Their first attempt... they are brought into contact with Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham.The second try... they find out a lounge owned by a mobster isn't the best idea.The third attempt... goes perfectly.





	1. Chapter 1

It has been a year since the end of the world that didn’t happen, a year since he had dinner with Aziraphale at the Ritz. A year filled with a flurry of action and simply more of the same. They kept in touch with Adam, kept in touch with Warlock because the wrong boy or not they still spent a great deal of time with the boy. To just leave him be felt – wrong almost.

Eyeing himself in the mirror, Crowley made sure everything was in place. He wanted to look even better than he normally does, make sure nothing can spoil tonight – because tonight was date night. And given the change in their relationship – they were truly on their own side now more so than ever before, and Crowley wanted it to go right and wanted to keep the high going. He was selfish that way, no lie about it.

Looking over himself for the tenth time, he decided that there was nothing more to improve. However, if anyone were to ask it was only his second time checking himself over. With a final nod, he threatened his plants and made sure they were watered properly before heading out his door – only to return to fetch the gift he made for Aziraphale. A cupcake, decorated with an edible snake on top made out of icing.

With everything taken care of, he was off.

_~ Line Break ~_

Seeing Aziraphale dressed in a nice white suit, nicer than his casual everyday wear had Crowley stopping in his tracks. No longer able to saunter and swagger as he normally prefers to walk with legs he enjoys, his attention was entirely on the smiling angel before him who was only slightly flustered at Crowley openly looking him up and down. Collecting himself was easier than expected as he moved forward to greet his angel, giving him his cupcake which was absolutely adored – Aziraphale even thought it was cute. It made Crowley pleased, and a hundred attempts tossed in the garbage at home worth it.

Aziraphale smelt good! That was the second thing he noticed about his angel, a new cologne with the familiar scent of old books and Aziraphale. Crowley didn’t say so instead, he said: “Ready to go?”

“Oh yes, very much so.” It was clear that Aziraphale was excited for this night and Crowley almost mourned that he couldn’t drive him to their date in his Bentley. But that could be another time, if there was anyone he didn’t mind in his car it was this angel beside him who shielded him from the first rainstorm and became the closest and best friend a demon can have.

They were going to a restaurant in Baltimore USA, quite the distance from where they normally go. But out of the way enough for them to relax for the night. The restaurant itself was The Capital Grille and from what Crowley could tell it had good reviews and even as they were led to their seats it left him feeling that although this was the tenth one on the list, all other nine they couldn’t agree with, it was a good choice.

They opted for discreet and safe topics. So naturally, they spoke of Adam, Warlock, a few centuries ago and Crowley’s Bentley and how he didn’t almost hug the boy for fixing it and how he definitely didn’t hug the car upon seeing it again. To anyone watching or even listening, they would think of them as mad. On top of that, they might have even thought that Crowley’s anger and the snappy tone was legit. It wasn’t. And the grinning expression on Aziraphale’s face was a clear sign that the angel knew full well that the anger was only for show if that.

This was when the waitress approached, she was a lovely girl and simply wanted to get them a refill of their drinks and see what they were going to eat first. She was nervous, no doubt hearing their not-argument. Crowley beckoned Aziraphale to order first and won a happy grateful smile as a thank you.

Aziraphale ordered the pear and gorgonzola salad to start. Crowley copied him.

It was good; however, Crowley was more interested in Aziraphale and his reactions to the food then eating his own. Going so far as feeding his angel a little bit extra pears and anything he can stab with his fork. They ordered the lobster for their main meal. They just had to wait for it to arrive, so in the meantime, they enjoyed the wine and the company.

At least until a disturbance caught Crowley’s attention enough to turn around in his seat. Other customers did the same; even Aziraphale leaned over to see what was going on. His wine was forgotten in hand.

The man pushing his way into the restaurant wasn’t dressed as someone dining here, Crowley spotted a gun and a badge. Getting comfortable and trying to behave like they weren’t just watching as the man stormed further into the restaurant.

“Oh dear, I do hope that everything is alright.” Aziraphale commented as they both still observed the man push past security and the waitress who tried to deter him. Making it into the restaurant and storming right up to the table that was –

\- right next to theirs.

It was now that Crowley took note of their neighbours. One finely dressed to the nines and the other looked like he didn’t quite fit in, dressed nice enough but not enough effort to really fit. Not cheap clothing, but not expensive either. Shoes looked well-worn and taking a closer look he picked up the scent of dogs on one and – oh now that was interesting in regards to the fancier dressed human.

He recognized that one. But only marginally. Not enough to really matter, not enough to really put him in a bad mood. Neither mattered in the long run. Not to Crowley, not in comparison to his own company whose attention was –

\- no longer on him…

With a slight huff, Crowley sipped at his wine.

Being that they were sitting so close, it was easy to listen in and hear what was going on. A murder has taken place and the man – Jack as Crowley learned was trying to get the one called Will into assisting him. Bringing up the fact that if he doesn’t, more people would die and pretty much saying that it would be Will’s fault. Which was low all things considering. Crowley snickered slightly, catching Aziraphale’s attention and bringing it back to himself.

“Kind of manipulative behaviour you’d almost expect from my lot. Or yours?” Crowley poked, his lot would definitely verbally humiliate and blame and force someone to do something they might not want to do. But they’d use torture and physical force as well. He knows this, experienced it and avoids situations like that now.

Of course, he gets a slightly disapproving look before Aziraphale adds, “Not quite enough superiority in those words, I’m afraid.” Aziraphale regarded the whole situation unfolding over his shoulder once more before adding, “More posturing and enforcement going on behind me then in my own experiences. Bully tactics.”

A soft snort, like hell they don’t use bully tactics and enforcement. He’s watched his friend over the years and he’s seen some of the after-effects and how the angel seemed beaten down. After all, he was a Principality and yet often treated as a common angel and pushed around like it. Aziraphale just chooses to be nice, sometimes fails spectacularly at it but he tries.

The situation at the table next to theirs shows no signs of stopping, at least until Jack is forced to leave or Will submits. Crowley watched for a moment more, saw that Will’s companion seemed keenly curious on what was going on. It was barely seen, but Crowley recognized it as soon as those eyes subtly tracked the movement of both Jack and Will. Like a predator.

The waitresses who tried to stop Jack seemed to be hanging back; no doubt one of them fetched security. But it was taking too long. And Jack was ruining his night with Aziraphale.

“Mind shutting up; bully the man to do your job some other time. Not here.” Crowley spoke, made sure his words were clear and loud enough that there was no question who he was talking to. And it was enough to catch the man’s attention. It was funny watching him stutter and choke on words for a moment before the man – Jack – turned his full attention onto Crowley. Will seemed like he wanted to disappear.

“Listen, friend…” Jack started, ignoring to the best of his abilities Crowley’s patronizing, “Not your friend.”

“… I know you’re having an important night, but right now there’s a murderer…” Jack kept talking, mostly over Crowley who made the comment, “Always one of those around. Same with demons, angels, goblins and trolls. Human and otherwise.” He was getting disapproval looks from Aziraphale, but only superficially. His angel could be just as if not pettier than he was.

“Listen! I’m with the FBI and this is important business. I don’t need to defend myself to you, you shouldn’t even be commenting about this in the first place.” Jack snapped, taking a few steps forward now so he was standing at their table instead of the table he was just at. This had Crowley eyeing him with open distaste and Aziraphale side eyeing him with disapproval. Crowley was on the verge of snapping his fingers and just freezing him or doing something to make the man just go away.

Instead, given that there were just too many people here and Crowley couldn’t be bothered – he stood up. They were practically the same height. Well, Crowley puffed up slightly because he was just a bit taller. Not by much, but it still counted. Crowley sneered, this man – this human, was interfering with his night with his angel. With his own resentment in place, it wasn’t hard to start a verbal fight with the man. Bordering on physical if the man just wouldn’t stop yelling back and trying to claim the moral ground despite the fact that he was openly trying to brow-beat another man into doing his job not even five minutes ago.

They were pretty close to being nose to nose with each other now. Neither of them was backing down. Crowley had going so far as openly accusing the man as ruining his night with his angel. Gaining a soft “oh my.” From Aziraphale who was now standing at his side. The man who was previously being brow-beaten was also standing trying to calm the situation down while looking like he wanted to bolt out of the restaurant right at that moment.

The fifth member of this whole situation finally entered and intervened, successfully putting space between the two of them.

“May I make a suggestion; Will and I will come down early tomorrow morning to look at what you have for evidence. Would that work for you?” The man – Crowley swears he recognizes him from somewhere. It would occur to him that he did, in fact, meet the man before but a long time ago when he was only a child who was weeping in the snow for the loss of his sister. Crowley carried him to the orphanage where he would be kept until whenever he got out of there. Crowley didn’t keep tabs on him. Just knew he went through something traumatic and openly told him that it was a human thing to do – to get even with whoever hurt him. Crowley didn’t know the boy took that to heart in his own way.

The security finally arrived to escort a mollified Jack out of the restaurant. However, that left four of them standing around fully aware of having everyone’s attention on them. It was Aziraphale who suggested that it might be a good idea if they just left. Crowley who was upset about the whole thing and even more upset about his night with his angel being ruined snappily agreed while leading Aziraphale out in a frustrated rush. Aziraphale seemed oddly okay, once outside managing to get Crowley to stop from stalking off into the night – no doubt to find some way to get even.

“Thank you for tonight, it was awfully kind of you. Both for treating me out to a lovely dinner as well as sticking up for that man.” Aziraphale said, pulling Crowley closer and Crowley finding himself willingly powerless to resist being drawn closer to his angel. With a shrug and a near bashful reaction – something, he would deny because he wasn’t the kind of demon to be bashful. He was a demon for crying out loud!

“A walk in the park?” Crowley offered, they couldn’t do much because he highly doubts a pub scene would be Aziraphale’s idea of a good time. Crowley, on the other hand, would have no problem with it. He’s been known to frequent a few, even got into a few bar fights. More exciting than he liked to let on. No one got too badly hurt just very sore the next day.

Aziraphale agreed, only before they departed they were called. The man Crowley recognizes well enough was approaching, the other one – Will hanging back.

“My apologies for what happened, allow me to make it up to you over dinner at my place.” The man offered, after introducing himself as Doctor Hannibal Lecter. Shaking both their hands as they introduced themselves in return. Anthony J Crowley and Aziraphale.

Odd to just invite someone you don’t know over to dinner. What if they were murderers? This man before him wouldn’t know if that were the case, that aside, he was a demon and that was close enough as is. That and there was the added bonus of just not wanting to deal with anyone else who was caught up in the mess of the ruined dinner date he tried to have with his angel. Aziraphale must have sensed this; he took over and politely declined. He was the nice one after all. The man seemed slightly disapproving but accepted the polite decline for what it was and much to Crowley’s relief left them be.

It won’t be until much later, a month at least, that Crowley would figure out who Doctor Hannibal Lecter was. He was half tempted to ruin the evidence that would point to Hannibal as a suspect because of Jack interrupting date night – but the idea of one human cannibalizing another was revolting at best. He was a demon, technically he shouldn’t care. He should rejoice, for that was a soul coming to them at the end of his life.

But nobody said Crowley was good at being a demon. So a little tweak here, a little there and the rest was up to Jack to figure out - who found out too late regardless and a bloodbath in a kitchen back in Baltimore takes place.


	2. Chapter 2

With the first dinner long since pushed from their minds, Crowley opted to try again. This time, no fancy gifts even though the last time it was only a cupcake with a frosted snake on it. If a restaurant didn’t work, then perhaps he should try a lounge or even a café or perhaps a pub. No, scratch the last one out. Pubs in his experience was loud, dirty and fights often broke out. But then, Crowley tended to start some of those fights and sometimes instigated it between two others.

Café? No? What’s the point; they could just go to the Ritz and be done with it. A café is better for breakfast and maybe lunch – or so he’s heard.

Does a lounge have food? No matter, if it didn’t it would for one night. For Aziraphale it would.

Now all he had to do was find the best one to take his angel out to.

###

The lounge he found was aesthetically pleasing. At least for Crowley, it was not exactly Aziraphale’s type of look but given the nightlife in Gotham and the fact that he knows of a lovely show going on near the lounge it would be a good place as any. No good park to really walk in that Aziraphale would like, but he’ll make up for that in London and maybe they can find some nice national park somewhere later on. Feed some ducks even?

Aziraphale, as expected wasn’t entirely too pleased with the location but with the natural excitement the angel seems to hold for almost everything – he was more than willing to accompany Crowley. Getting in was easy, all it took was a minor miracle and someone’s reservation was released. This time, it was on Crowley. Looking the place up and down as they entered Crowley did decide that this was his kind of place, aesthetically. His angel stuck out but that was okay. More than okay, he was shiny and pure in comparison to this city and this lounge given the company found inside.

They ordered a glass of wine each and some appetizers that they just happened to have available. Some minor miracles in that regard.

And so far – the night was going smoothly, they both were enjoying their time reminiscing on locations that this lounge just happens to remind them of. Aziraphale even got a bit excited when he found out that the show that was being played was one of Shakespeare’s. It wasn’t Hamlet, but Aziraphale was fine with that. It would be a good show to watch, or at least Crowley hoped it would be. He hasn’t really seen much of Shakespeare’s work done in modern times. Except for the Lion King, yes he knows it was Disney but the idea for the story was taken from Shakespeare so it’s Shakespeare and nothing can convince Crowley in any way.

Of course, since everything was going good for their night out something had to go wrong.

There was a gunshot, most likely somewhere in the back alley. Aziraphale immediately took notice of it, was fretting as well and Crowley noted that no one else was. It was now that he took a closer look at his fellow patron's. They didn’t look entirely like upstanding citizens. Some were, probably. But not all of them and all of them no doubt wanted to be here because here was close to the ‘action’ if there was any.

He cursed inwardly; outwardly he managed to talk Aziraphale out of going to check on whatever happened. But barely, it helped that it seemed like a detective entered the lounge so Crowley used that as a tool to convince his angel to stay put. They didn’t want to make a scene. Unfortunately, Aziraphale’s drink has long since been forgotten as he watched the detective enter the lounge, clearly pushing past the bouncer who guarded the door.

The bartender yelled after the detective, “Mr. Cobblepot is bu…” Or at least tried to, he never got to finish his sentence as the detective entered the office. He wasn’t there long, exiting the office with the man clearly –

\- oh no…

Not him. Crowley recognized the man instantly. He wasn’t a man at all, he was a demon who Crowley might have accidentally discorporated at least 41 years ago. It wasn’t done intentionally if anything it was a horrible misunderstanding.

“You!” And Crowley was spotted. Damn.

The demon stormed over to their table with a clear intent of murder it seemed. The detective looked torn between following and being annoyed at the same time.

“What are you doing here?!” The demon – clearly now going by the human name Oswald Cobblepot. Not that Crowley could talk; his name was Anthony J Crowley after all. But at least his name didn’t sound, weird.

He must have been taking too long to answer because Aziraphale answered and unfortunately answered honestly. Cobblepot seemed shocked and surprised. Soon enough, laughing.

“You finally got the nerve to ask feathered brains out? Not to mention, I’m surprised you haven’t been made into a purse or shoes yet.” Cobblepot sniffed down at them, Crowley had to swallow his anger at the implication. He might not be a proper demon in the whole murder and mayhem thing but he was still a demon and he still had his dignity for crying out loud.

“I beg your pardon!” Aziraphale was undignified by that response and giving Crowley a stern look saying we are going to have a serious talk later about this. It clearly didn’t help Aziraphale’s mood when no apologies were offered, not that Crowley expected the demon before them to offer one up. If they were any closer, Crowley would have loved to ask why he was wearing a new body rather than his own or why the man he looks like now seems to be well suited to this city and this lifestyle. Why that body seemed to be well cared for. Something got this demon attached, and he didn’t think it was the human detective who was now storming out of the lounge on his phone.

“Your pet’s leaving.” Crowley indicated, hoping that it would draw the demon's attention away from them.

“He’s not my pet; if he were I would have fewer headaches. But alas, he is as close to an equal as a human can get.” Cobblepot corrected, leaning over Crowley who refused to lean back. He wasn’t about to let some bird intimidate him. He was a snake, a large one too. Stubbornness on both sides would eventually lead to a fight to break out, knives and guns included. Well at least until Aziraphale had enough and forced Crowley and Cobblepot to sit across from each other and talk about what was at the center of their argument and get to the bottom of it.

Crowley wasn’t allowed home until it was resolved.

And he couldn’t lie to Aziraphale about it. So there he sat across from a glaring bird. Rolling his eyes, he crossed his arms and opted to not be the first one to speak.

Two days later, it was finally Cobblepot who broke the silence. Crowley would learn that this demon fell for the love of a mother when he inhabited her son’s body in a move of desperation to avoid the paperwork and waiting for a new body. Loved being cared for, and the rest as the humans would say was history.

“And the detective?” Crowley asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

“That came out of nowhere.” Cobblepot admitted, going so far as explaining why the man – the human man – was attractive to Cobblepot. They ended up enjoying a bit of conversation in regards to respective others. An angel for him, a human for Cobblepot.

“You know he’s not going to live forever, he’s human.” Crowley, of course, had to be a downer and had to make sure the demon before him understood that.

“I know.” Cobblepot acknowledged and Crowley cursed himself, now he was sad. He won’t admit it, but all he wanted to do was go home and sleep away this sadness. Aziraphale won’t let him though, he would insist on caring for Crowley and as much as he didn’t want to admit it. It would work too. He just won’t admit to it, he has his pride after all.

Eventually, Crowley left the Iceberg Lounge and found Aziraphale who knew instantly that he didn’t want to go to a show now. Offered a gentle, “let’s go home.” And Crowley accepted.

They’ll try again some other time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made Oswald Cobblepot a demon for a friend: greenfairy13


	3. Chapter 3

Crowley was no quitter; he’s waited 6000 years to have just an ounce of what he has with his angel. He wasn’t about to let two failed dinners get him down; he was determined to get one night with his angel done right. Sure they’ve had plenty of moment between each date night and many times before where they enjoyed each other’s time and company. But that was hardly the point.

He wanted to take his angel out for dinner. It would be nice to find a new place to try. Not the café down the street to Aziraphale’s bookshop, or the Ritz even though that is one of the top places they love to go. And he wanted to do it the human way. But that wasn’t working out, so – a miracle was in order.

And Crowley, demon or not, he was capable of miracles. He’s done his fair share over time just as his angel has done his fair share of temptations.

So where to go?

How to do it?

And just how big of a miracle does he need to do? Surely not the size he did at the airport, where he stopped time under the pressure of a threat. The worst threat. His own hell on earth as far as he cared. Not that he would admit that. He had pride you know.

So. What should he do?

And that’s when it hit him. He’ll cook for the angel himself!

He willed the cooking supplies, gone shopping instead of snapping his fingers and having the supplies already in place. Crowley sent a message to Aziraphale come over at six for dinner and to not be late. Once he received a reply, proper wording with a happy face next to it he relaxed a bit. Now all he had to do was force the ingredients together and make sure that everything tasted perfect because nothing but the best for his angel. He already made sure his plants would be on their best behaviour. No spots, no dropping. Nothing but perky perfect green leaves.

Checking the time, he decided to do a little cleanup and make sure the table had comfortable chairs. He kidnapped one of his plants, the smallest one and put it on the table and opted to put it back with the others. He’ll have to find something as a decoration. Candles? The globe? Bread? Eventually, he borrowed a lovely set of swan ornaments from the nice elderly lady named Agatha from downstairs. One black, one white and she wished him good luck. She already heard about the first two failures.

It was ten to six, with a snap of his fingers Crowley was perfectly presentable and the kitchen more or less clean except for food and what’s still cooking in the oven, which should be done in time for Aziraphale to eat.

A knock on the door and Crowley felt himself practically sprint for the door. He didn’t sprint, just walked steadily if you were to ask him.

Answering the door, he was thankful that it was Aziraphale who had a bottle of wine in hand. He wasn’t dressed any fancier than normal. Which was just fine, this wasn’t a date or anything like that. This was just dinner; he didn’t even have to bring wine and told him such. It was waved off, informed that it was polite decorum to bring wine to dinner when you’re a guest.

Crowley even pulled a chair out for Aziraphale, Agatha suggested he did that. He’ll not tell her he took her advice on that one, but so far things were going well. The dinner, however, was slightly burnt and for a moment the stove trembled. There was going to be a firm talking to later, but Aziraphale didn’t seem bothered by the fact that things were slightly burnt.

They just sat down and ate dinner together, had a polite conversation and made way to a living room hardly used but created recently for this purpose. Sitting on the loveseat facing each other, they got comfortable. The wine was brought and eventually, the polite conversation gave way to the odd debate and the regular reminiscing about long since passed friends or plays they went to, dinners they ate and memories they shared as they practically raised Warlock and made a plan to go visit the young lad soon. They still kept in touch with him after all, there was no way that his Nanny and Gardener would just up and disappear. Not now anyway.

By the time they decided that the night was over, it was already five in the morning.

“Well, I suppose the bookshop could stay closed today.” Aziraphale stated when an invitation was offered to go out for crepes even though they weren’t as good as the ones in Paris. A walk afterwards in their park would be needed and a few ducks would need to be fed on the way back to the bookshop after where they no doubt would open another bottle of wine at some point and spend another afternoon and evening wrapped up in each other.

Not a bad way to spend their time now that they were free to do so without fear of being caught and being forced apart.


End file.
